


Two to Tangle

by afterandalasia



Series: Two to Tangle Series [1]
Category: Cinderella (1950), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins, Community: disney_kink, Families of Choice, Gen, Multiple Crossovers, Murder, Parent Death, Pre-Femslash, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rapunzel had thought that killing the woman who held her captive would mark the end of her life; instead it turns out to be just a beginning. Rescued by a woman who calls her a Princess, she finds herself joining a group who have turned from victims of life to controllers of it: assassins. She watches one of their missions unfold as she comes to terms with the new role which life seems to be giving her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two to Tangle

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to [this prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/4400.html?thread=3706928#t3706928) at the Disney Kink meme (spoilers for story in prompt), and for the [Big Bang Buffet](http://bigbangbuffet.livejournal.com/) mini-bang 2012.  
> My thanks to greysakai at LJ for her amazing artwork (found here)! Also to darkstar1991 at LJ for her work as beta, which has been invaluable.
> 
> This story grew out of a prompt and somehow ended up huge! There are a lot of canons in the crossover (most of the ones with human characters, I think) but Tangled and Cinderella are the focus.
> 
>  
> 
> Note May 2017: fixed a few typing errors, and adjusted half a sentence so that Tiana's story matches _Nails_.

[ ](http://ficofandalasia.livejournal.com/4916.html)

 

 

The woman found her kneeling, still with the rope of her own hair in her hands.

"Come on, child," she said softly. Rapunzel looked up through tears to see the hand extended towards her. "Come now. We can't very well leave you here for when the guards arrive."

"But..." she whimpered.

The woman reached down and gently unwrapped Rapunzel's hands from the coil of hair. A light tug was enough to pull her to her feet, almost stumbling over.

"It's all right. I understand. I'll take care of you."

A blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, and she was led away from the body that lay at the foot of the tower.

 

 

 

She did not remember much after that time; the next thing that was clear was waking in a warm bed, with clean clothes ready on a chair beside her. Rapunzel looked around uncertainly, then rose and put on the dress. It was soft pink, wool, and smelt faintly of herbs when she put it on. The scent reminded her of her mother, and tears filled her eyes, but before she could do anything more than sniffle there was a knock at the door.

"Who- who is it?" Rapunzel said, a little shrilly.

The door opened; she realised that it was the same woman from the previous day. Now she could see more clearly the woman's figure, soft and rounded, with grey hair drawn up into a neat bun.

"Just me, my dear," she said, stepping into the room. Rapunzel wrung her hands until the woman took hold of them and stilled them. "It's all right, honestly. We don't blame you here for what you've done."

Rapunzel turned her gaze slowly upwards, wavering though it was with tears. "You... really mean that?"

"Of course," said the woman softly. She removed a handkerchief from her pocket and used it to dab the girl's tears. "You'd be surprised, you know, by how many there are... like you. But here, I promise you, you will never need feel fear again."

 

 

 

She was given food, and then allowed to see the gardens, which were wide and wild and beautiful. There were not many flowers, but many trees and bushes, and a large lake with a still, placid surface. The sun was warm, and made her feel a little safer again.

For a while, there were no others to be seen, and then Rapunzel caught sight of a silhouette beside the lake, moving slowly as if in some sort of dance. "Who is that?" she asked in awe.

The woman showing her round gave a soft, fond smile. "That is Mulan. Hopefully you will meet her later. She has been with me for some time now."

"Is she..."

"A man would have been lauded for taking up the sword to avenge his father." Her voice was cold, and Rapunzel looked round nervously, until the woman managed to smile again. "Here, Mulan is lauded no matter her sex."

In the kitchens, a young woman with curls of dark hair and a dreamy smile nodded hello to them, then turned her attention and her knife back to the meat before her.

"Tiana," said Rapunzel's guide. "Our newest member... other than yourself, of course. She and Lottie were brave enough to go up against a very powerful man."

It all seemed like a far-off dream, what happened the previous day, that dreadful day of tears and anger. From time to time across the hours the thoughts would rise, unbidden, and Rapunzel would shudder and push them aside once again to look around the beautiful great house in which she found herself.

They paused before one of the great rooms, her guide seemingly hesitating for a moment before nodding very slightly and pushing open the door. A woman stood inside, perhaps a little older than the others whom Rapunzel had seen, with blonde hair tied back and a placid expression on her face. She wore simple clothes, an apron over a long brown shift and a white blouse. Rapunzel almost went to speak, but held her tongue at a gentle movement of the older woman's hand.

Without warning, the hand of the woman in the room shot out, sideways, without even a turn of her head. The knife that left it slammed into a painted bull’s eye on the wall, perfectly central, quivering for just a moment before falling still, and Rapunzel startled at the sound.

The woman turned her head towards the door; she was strikingly beautiful, but her face seemed to have something missing; emotion, Rapunzel realised. "Godmother?" she said.

"Very good, Cinderella," the older woman replied, giving a bright smile. "Will you be at the meeting this evening?"

"Of course," Cinderella replied, then without another word turned to walk towards the bull’s eye again.

Closing the door once again, Rapunzel's guide turned back to her and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Now, I'm sorry that made you jump, but I just wanted to show you that we _value_ different things here than the outside world even believes that women are capable of."

"Who is that woman?" said Rapunzel quietly.

"She... allows us to call her Cinderella. She doesn't talk about her past."

"Why Cinderella?"

"When I found her, she was in the cinders of the house. Come now, let's get you to one of the sitting rooms, you're shaking like a leaf!"

She was, Rapunzel realised, as she felt her arm taken and allowed herself to be guided down the hallway and into one of the parlour rooms. She was settled into a comfortable seat, her hand patted, and then the woman sat down opposite her. Rapunzel looked up with another wave of tears, but did not wait for a handkerchief this time before wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "What is this place?" she said finally. Her voice rose slightly as she added: "Who are you?!"

"Call me Godmother," said the woman gently. "The first of the girls whom I rescued was my goddaughter, and now all of them call me that. This place is safety, for girls who wouldn't be safe out in the outside world."

She passed over her handkerchief.

"You killed the woman called Gothel. Now, don't flinch; I know that you had to. That's the thing that other people don't realise - you only did what you had to do. Other people would be angry about that." Godmother stroked Rapunzel's hair gently; it was soothing, familiar, made the tremors in her chest quell themselves slightly. "All of the girls here, they were in the same position as you. Things got too bad, they reached the end of their chances... and they did what they had to do. They killed.

"Not everyone can do that, you know," she added, barely giving Rapunzel time to breathe, let alone to think. "I've seen a lot of people - too many people, women and men - die because they didn't have the ability to do what these girls here can do. What _you_ can do. It's something rare, something special."

"But what do you do here?"

"I teach you how to use that ability," said Godmother, her voice soft and gently and so maternal that it made Rapunzel's heart ache. "The girls here are assassins."

 

 

 

"I saw a new girl being led around today," said Tiana, even as she looked back into the oven to check on the meat that was roasting. A wave of steam and rich smells rolled out, and she nodded approvingly before closing the door again.

"Oh?" Snow White did not look up from the desert that she was preparing, knife flashing silver in her hands. "What did she look like?"

"Scared, mostly," replied Tiana with a shrug. "Young, too."

"We were all young when we came here," said Snow mildly. Tiana humphed. "Do you think she'll make it?"

"Who knows?" Tiana replied, heading over towards the sink and rolling up her sleeves. "Cinders might be able to tell."

Even Snow gave a slight shiver at their colleague's name. "No doubt she would. But she could tell you how many hairs are someone's head. Are you coming to the meeting this evening?"

"Of course. Not going to miss the first occasion of the season, am I?" Tiana laughed. "It's as if people _want_ their targets taken out at balls."

"What good is a mission if it stays secret?"

"True," said Tiana. "Here, pass me that knife when you're done, might as well wash everything at once."

 

 

 

"You don't have to come tonight if you don't want to," Godmother assured Rapunzel as they made their way into the hall. "And you can leave at any time, all right?"

All that Rapunzel could do was nod. After so long in captivity, so long locked up away from the light, she found herself jumping at shadows and trembling at footsteps still. A meeting, though; nothing could be further from what she had once known than that. People and talking and something that might just have looked like _freedom_. More than that, the faintest spark of curiosity had settled in the base of her stomach, and she had to know more.

There were already many women in the hall when she entered, sitting around a great long table. At one end, the Godmother took her seat and gestured for Rapunzel to sit close beside her; Rapunzel counted swiftly and saw more than a dozen women at the table. All of them seemed quite young, from her own age up to perhaps thirty or a little more, save for one with the fine white strands just at her temples amidst her black hair, though her face was still plump and pretty.

"Thank you for attending this meeting, my charges," said Godmother, her voice rounded and welcoming as she sat back comfortably in her chair. "As you know, the season is about to begin, and thus we are more called for as well. Unsurprisingly, we have been approached by an individual who has a problem, which would be best solved at the opening of the season: the Grand Ball of Gallia.

"There is news that the Prince is to choose a bride at the ball."

Whispers went round the table; Rapunzel watched with wide eyes as some of the women tilted their heads, or turned to murmur to their neighbours. Only Cinderella, seated at the far end of the table, did not react. She simply remained, hands folded demurely in her lap, expression impassive.

"All of you will remember, no doubt, the debacle of last Season. Though we refused the requests from the King of Gallia to remove some of his enemies, he found... other sources. Ones who were neither so discreet, nor so thorough, as we were. Now," she waved her hand vaguely. "There are other issues, of course. _Politics_. But we need not care for them. The fact remains that the Prince needs to be removed - discreetly."

"The Grand Ball is hardly a good place for discretion," said another one of the women. She had long, gold-blonde hair, a heart-shaped face with wide eyes, and wore a dress in clouded blue and pink that made her appear as a mirage. "The eyes of half the world will be watching, and many of those will know of our order."

"That is because she plans something different, Aurora," said the eldest of the women, tilting her head just slightly, with the faintest of smiles on her lips. "Is that not so, Godmother?"

Godmother smiled warmly. "Exactly, Snow White. Come now, Aurora, you should know by now that not all of what we do is so simple. Yes, the Grand Ball will be the start of our designs, but this story will pan out a little longer. We cannot delay beyond the Ball because it would mean that the Prince would have a wife who would also need to be dealt with. That would be... clumsy."

More murmurs, this time more of agreement. Rapunzel felt as if she was watching nothing more worrying than a discussion of what was to be served for dinner, or what dresses they were to wear to a ball so as not to clash with each other. She pinched the skin on the back of her wrist just to check whether she was dreaming, and then a second time just to be sure.

"We remove him from the market, then he's easier to deal with," concluded Tiana with a nod. Godmother graced her with a smile in return. "Tidy."

"Exactly," Godmother said. "Now, of course, I would like to thank those of you who came, for showing your interest in this particular assignment. If there are any of you who would like to withdraw, feel free to do so now. I understand that this is a particularly high-level operation."

This time, the silence in the room became a little sharper, as Godmother's words had become a little crisper. There was a momentary pause, then a few of the women rose to their feet and left: a pretty redhead dressed all in shades of blue; a tall dusky-skinned woman without a scrap of makeup and with her hair a little wilder than the others; a blonde in a fluffy pink swirl of a dress who left with a theatrical wave of her hands. Another moment passed whilst Godmother looked round at the others patiently, then nodded.

"Very well, then. Now, you will of course understand that there are some of you who will not be suited for this. The King of Gallia wants his son to marry a girl from the Kingdom, so unfortunately that takes some of you out of the running. Jasmine, Mulan, Tiana... Kida, I'm afraid that you will probably also appear too out of place for him."

The women nodded, understandingly, even as Rapunzel felt her own astonishment written on her face. Were they still given and taken like owned beings?

As if reading her mind, the woman on her other side reached over and touched her arm gently. Rapunzel jumped, then blushed, as the woman gave her a kindly smile. "It's okay, we don't mind. All of us are suited to different roles, we know that. There are others for which we are perfect."

"Snow White, my dear, the Prince would unfortunately not consider you marriageable any more," said Godmother, though she gave a glance aside to Rapunzel and the woman speaking to her. "But we are left with some options. We need someone who will be able to handle themselves at the Ball, dance and make conversation - Jessie, Esmeralda, I understand that these will hardly be comfortable for you."

There were more nods for her words, this time from the second of the red-haired women in the room, this one freckled and wearing pants, and a raven-haired beauty with sparkling green eyes and gold coins glittering on her clothing.

"Megara, the role would bore you, I am sure."

"Why?" said one of the women further down the table, winding a strand of her hair around her fingers and raising her eyebrows pointedly. "Whatever could be boring about pretending to fall for some pompous Prince of a politically-foolish country, leading him on a merry chase and having to play my role for up to weeks at a time?"

Godmother gave her an equally pointed look in return, but within moments broke off into a laugh. "My point exactly, my dear. Now, that leaves four of you as are here, but I have news from one of my sources that the Prince himself has something of a preference for blondes. Belle, Wendy, although I will probably want to send one of you to the Ball as back-up, this means that you are not likely to be most effective in this role."

Another of the women at the table nodded vaguely, whilst the one to Rapunzel's right gave another pat to the girl's hand. The beautiful woman in the marbled blue-pink dress looked up with curiosity in her eyes, a vague smile beginning to play on her lips.

"Aurora-" Godmother began.

"I will go," said Cinderella suddenly.

There was a harsh silence, eyes turning towards her. A look of something a little like fear crossed Aurora's face, and she turned to the woman whom she sat beside still with a look of trepidation.

"You want the contract?" Aurora said quietly.

Cinderella paused for a moment, glancing down towards the table as if considering, then gave one prim nod. "Yes. I will take this contract."

Godmother looked unsettled for a moment, and when she gave a nod and rose to her feet it was with a vague sense of being flustered. "Very well. The matter is settled. Cinderella, the contract is yours. Belle, Wendy, if either of you would be interested in acting as a second, the choice is yours. Cinderella, I will talk to you later." She motioned for Rapunzel to stand, the action distracted, as if she had almost forgotten that she was there. "Meeting adjourned. I will see all of you later."

 

 

 

Cinderella was the first one to rise to her feet and leave the room, impassable and elegant. She was gone even before Godmother turned to leave, and certainly before Godmother had left the room whispers started, flowing like water until the door is closed. Wide-eyed, Rapunzel followed, reaching unconsciously for the older woman's arm and being allowed to take it without a word.

"Is that... normal?" she finally managed, her voice weak.

Godmother paused for a moment, before replying. "Whenever our services are needed, it is quite usual for us to call a meeting, yes. Any of the girls who are interested may attend, and as I outline what is required it is usually amicably decided who will take the task upon themselves. However, I did not... I expected Aurora to take this task, I cannot lie, or perhaps Wendy or Charlotte if Aurora did not choose to go through with it."

"Cinderella... didn't seem like the others," said Rapunzel, a little timidly. She expected to be ordered into silence, perhaps even struck, the way she would once have been. To her surprise, however, Godmother nodded with a sigh.

"She is unusual, even among us. She is... so good, at what she does. It frightens the other girls a little, I think. We are something of a family; a family of choice. What we have in common is our ability to survive. Cinderella... does not talk to the rest of us so much."

"But she does..." Rapunzel searched for the words that she had heard, their unfamiliarity strange but oddly comforting. "Take contracts?"

Now her companion smiled, patting the hand that was wrapped around her upper arm. "Very good, dear. Yes, she does, but usually only our most strange. I tend to approach her personally, rather than make it an open meeting. Sometimes Snow and I do the same. But if she wishes to take the contract, then we will allow her to."

"What..." she swallowed. "What will happen at the Ball?"

"Well, we'll have to go over the details later, but really it will just be establishing a connection. There'll be more to do after that. She needs to go to the Ball, meet the Prince, and charm him. Ensure that he does not fall for any other woman. Simple, really."

"Oh," said Rapunzel. It didn't necessarily sound simple to her, but it didn't sound anywhere near as dangerous or nasty as she had imagined that it might. "I see."

 

 

 

Rapunzel was surprised, in the end, at how quickly she found herself made at home in the Godmother's mansion. The other women - they all seemed much more grown-up than she, although it transpired that many of them were barely her age - were welcoming, even sweet, as she joined them in doing the cooking and cleaning and washing that took up perhaps half of each day for most of the inhabitants. She met all of the others over time, even the ones that had not been in the original meeting: Melody, Jane Porter, Nancy, Olivia. They had their inside jokes and their nicknames, but did not mind at all letting Rapunzel in on them, and more than one commented wistfully on the beauty of her hair.

The first time, she took hold of her braid warily, backing away a step, and Ariel had looked shocked at her vehemence, but after a while she realised that it simply was a compliment. She shared a room with Charlotte, who had also not been there long, and though she found the other woman overwhelming, she was more than willing to let Rapunzel borrow her dresses, and stuff tissue down the front to fill them out somewhat.

After luncheon, she was generally left to her own devices - the others made excuses, would not say where they went, and though Rapunzel had her suspicions she did not allow herself to voice them aloud. Godmother asked what she would like to do; timidly she replied that she liked painting or reading, and the next day found her room equipped with a huge bookshelf with an eclectic mix of books - "I didn't know what you would like, dear" - and a canvas, sketchbook, and selection of paints and oil pastels. She almost cried with joy.

It was some time about a week later, though she had somewhat lost track of time, when Godmother came to her with a sweet smile and the eldest of her charges - Snow White, Rapunzel had learnt - at her side, and said that there were just some things that they needed to talk about, and to find out. Curiosity in her heart again, Rapunzel followed them.

They sat down in a comfortable little study, and Snow White made notes as Grandmother did most of the talking. It started simply enough: how was Rapunzel getting on here, how she found the other girls, how she felt about what she knew that they did.

She replied, honestly, that she had found them surprisingly normal, surprisingly nice. It was difficult to associate them with the ideas that she had previously had about the idea of 'assassins'.

Then it became a little different, a little more pressing. What physical activities had Rapunzel used to do? Had she ever held a weapon? What would she say were her skills?

She became a little more uncertain in her answers, but Snow White gave her a reassuring smile and Godmother told her that nobody would be judging her for anything. At the warmth coming from them both, Rapunzel told them whatever she thought might be helpful, and finally Godmother reached across and patted her on the shoulder.

"Thank you, sweetheart. You see, not everyone here does the same thing, after all, you understand? Ariel, for example, is best at getting information from people, rather than just removing them. Snow, here," she nodded to her goddaughter, "is good at removing young ladies, without it being apparent that it was. Such is often done by families who want to avoid scandal. Tiana works with poison, very anonymous."

"And... Cinderella?" said Rapunzel softly, wrapping her hands around the arms of the chair.

The two older women glanced towards each other. "Cinderella is... unusual. She takes those jobs which other people can't."

Rapunzel reached up to fiddle with a strand of hair that fell over her shoulder. It was the first day that she had dared to wear her hair loose in front of the other women, still starting occasionally and worried that someone might reach out to grab it. "So you want to know what I might be... skilled at?"

Godmother smiled proudly, and Rapunzel felt her heart flutter as she smiled. "Exactly, my dear. And it tells us what it might be good to train you in, as well - obviously we need you to be able to take care of yourself in any way, but it's best to play to what your strengths might be. So we'll make sure that you get a little bit of physical training, probably with Mulan, or Kida, and some charm training with Aurora. You can read, you said, so I may have you train under Belle for a while as she is particularly literate. You don't have to settle on exactly what you want to do now, after all."

She had heard about education, about people being tutored, about some lucky souls - though usually boys - going to school. Her mother had always talked about it in the most derogatory of terms, as if schools taught nothing but sin and evil, but deep down she had always wondered what it was like to have that much more of the world laid out in front of you with nothing more than pen and paper.

It made her feel as if she wanted to squirm in her seat with excitement. They _wanted_ her here, they _appreciated_ her, they wanted to let her _learn_. And they were all so _nice_ to her as well, so interested to what she had to say.

It made her feel so happy here, so desperate not to leave.

"Do you have any ideas yourself about what you might want to do, dear?" said Godmother.

Rapunzel bit her lip and shook her head, leaning back into her chair again slightly. "Oh no," she said quickly. "I wouldn't know how to... how to..."

"Deal with a problem," said Snow White gently. Rapunzel nodded with relief.

"Of course, of course," Godmother said. "Well, as I said, we'll talk to Belle and see if she can give you some all-round knowledge, and Mulan to start training you. She's a little bit gentler than Kida. Do you like being outdoors, dear?"

"Oh yes!" she replied, enthusiasm escaping her without her even meaning it to.

Godmother smiled. "Then I think you might take well to the next couple of weeks.”

 

 

 

Occasionally, if she thought too much about what it was that she was being trained for, it would make her shy away from people and almost want to cry once again. But mostly, Rapunzel could not help but enjoy herself, as she ran through the grounds in the pants she was now allowed to wear, or learnt to climb trees or swim in the big, pretty pond that they had. Belle knew _everything_ , it seemed, from different languages to which books were most highly thought of, from who ruled all of the countries within a month's travel to what the politics of the lands meant. Aurora was more patient than Rapunzel could ever imagine as she taught her how to stand, and how to look coy and say little to avoid conversation, and how to do a few simple dances so that she could look graceful. It was a whirlwind, peculiarly fun, if rather peculiar in itself, and she had never felt so free and valued and grown-up before.

After a few days - she stopped counting after a while - Belle paused whilst they were feeding the chickens, and rooted around in the hay for a while. "Hmm," she said finally, "looks like Cumulus still isn't laying. Here, take this for me."

Rapunzel took the basket, balancing it alongside hers as Belle scooped up the hen in question despite a bit of fluttering. With a gesture of her head, Belle led her round the side to a small wooden lean-to on the side of the building, all the time talking gently to the chicken under her arm. There was firewood stacked to the back of the lean-to, a high wooden stump in the middle, criss-crossed with indents, and an axe leaning against the firewood.

"Grab one of those buckets and put it next to the stump, please, Rapunzel," said Belle, not changing her bright tone of voice and not looking round from the chicken. Rapunzel put down the baskets of feed by the doorway and moved one of the wooden pails there so that it was next to the stump. The inside was stained a little darker than the rest of the wood. "There we go. Come on, Cumulus." She stroked the hen's feathers, now tucking it under one arm were it fluttered a bit, then settled down. "Now, pick up the axe."

"What?" Rapunzel said, eyes going wide. It came out a little bit of a squeak.

"Don't scare Cumulus. Pick up the axe and bring it over here as well."

Belle stood next to the stump, swaying slightly on the spot, as if she was trying to rock the hen to sleep. Swallowing, then steeling herself, Rapunzel crossed to the firewood and wrapped her hands around the handle of the axe. It was not as heavy as she might have expected - she had always thought that anything like an axe would feel almost impossible to hold - and it lifted into her grip... easily. The wood was warm, and gently shaped in such a way that it was easy to hold two-handed.

"Have you ever cut wood before?" asked Belle, conversationally.

She shook her head. "No."

"But you've been helping Tiana in the kitchen, right? She says that you're very good."

A timid nod escaped her.

"Well, no doubt you've seen her cleavers. Have you cut any meat with them? Any joints?"

Another nod, this one a little more certain. Rapunzel could almost feel the shape of where this was going beneath her hands, and somehow it was as unexpectedly comfortable as the handle of the axe. "Yes. It was hard at first, then I got the hang of it."

"Perfect." Belle stroked the hen's neck in a way that Rapunzel couldn't quite see, and it settled down nicely. In swift movements, the older woman scooped back the hen's wings and feet, and pushed its head down towards the block. Before Rapunzel could respond, the chicken's neck was stretched out, and though it looked a little ruffled round the edges, it didn't seem too distressed. "Right, then. Cut its head off."

"Oh no," Rapunzel said. Her hands tightened on the axe, and she realised she had been clutching it to her chest and pushed it away again. But Belle fixed on her a very clear, competent stare, and it dawned that this was another little test, another little step on the way.

"We all had to do it once. Come on, it's not so hard as you think. Little more than cutting the meat like you did in the kitchen."

Rapunzel swallowed, hefted the axe, and stepped forwards. The chicken clucked, the name 'Cumulus' rose too high in her throat, and with a whimper she stepped back slightly. Belle's gaze hardened. For a moment, she could not think at all, then in a rush the last few weeks came back: her desolation, the warm hands on her shoulders, waking up in a warm bed and walking freely, speaking to people and being listened to, feeling... wanted.

She looked back at the chicken. They had eaten chicken more than once even in the time that she had been here, and though she had presumed that it came from the market, it probably made more sense that it came from their own hens. It would be fresher, as well. Tiana had not responded when she had commented one time on how fresh the meat always was.

The axe really wasn't as heavy as she would have thought, or as unwieldy. Perhaps it had been made lighter so that the other women here could use it easily; certainly she hadn't seen any men on the premises, other than the occasional trader who came to the gates. It wasn't that hard to raise it comfortably to shoulder level, the way that she had always raised the knives, and then to switch almost all of the weight to one hand so that the other would have to do nothing more than bring it down.

Cumulus made a slightly strangled sound. Belle's lips tightened into a slightly thinner line, then parted as if she was about to say something more.

Rapunzel bought the axe down. It only made a dull sound in the end.

Everything here was so much easier than she could have expected.

 

 

 

She did not expect to be invited to go to the ball. Cinderella had taken the contract and would therefore be going; Wendy had been chosen to go as the second, to take a different tack to get the Prince's attention if Cinderella's approach did not work, but she had honestly thought that it would be all. Instead, the evening before the ball was to take place, Godmother called Rapunzel into her office and met her with a smile and an embrace. Rapunzel returned it, growing more comfortable now.

“My dear, you have done so very well in this last couple of weeks,” said Godmother. Rapunzel murmured thanks. “Now, I wanted to give you a reward for that.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary! It’s wonderful just to be here!”

“Nonsense, nonsense,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “I’ve been speaking to a couple of friends of mine, who are very good with fabric, and they’ve got a dress that they’re going to make up for you. I want you to go to the Ball with Wendy, as her younger sister.”

Rapunzel felt her eyes go wide, her jaw drop, but she could not find a word. Godmother waited for a moment, smiling as the look of incredulity spread across her newest charge’s face, then laughed as Rapunzel gave a squeal of delight and threw her arms around Godmother’s neck.

“Thank you! Oh, thank you!” Rapunzel drew back just far enough to look wonderingly into Godmother’s eyes. “Are you sure? Really?”

“Yes, my dear,” she replied, patting Rapunzel on the cheek. “I don’t want you locked up in this house forever, now, do I?”

The words struck, and Rapunzel shook her head quickly.

“No.” Godmother kissed her forehead sweetly. “I want to make you one of my Princesses, one of my girls. It’s time for your début.”

 

 

 

Rapunzel had never seen a carriage before. She gave a gasp and squeezed Wendy’s arm when she caught sight of the one before her, a graceful cabriolet in dark wood and with gilded wheels, and with two chestnut horses pulling it. Wendy was dressed in an understated gown in robin’s egg blue, a moderate bustle on the back, and with her hair in ringlets around her face. She calmly explained everything that they passed to Rapunzel who, in her pretty pink tarlatan dress and with her fountains of blonde hair half tied up and half left loose, caught the eye of more than one of the others passing them by.

The footman of the coach assisted them in alighting, and Wendy placed Rapunzel’s hand around her arm as if she was her chaperone. That was another word that Rapunzel had heard for the first time recently. Her heart fluttered in her chest, but she could not help the smile and the pretty colour (she had been told it was pretty by Charlotte, who had looked as if she was going to cry of pride when she had seen Rapunzel in her gown) that came to her face.

“Come on,” said Wendy. “We should be here about at the right time.”

The invitation had said that the ball would begin at approximately eight o’clock in the evening, and so Wendy and Rapunzel had arrived a half hour or so late (“Fashionable,” Aurora had called it, and Rapunzel had felt excited all over again). She saw a few of the other young ladies in the cloakroom giggling or looking nervous as they primped their hair and rearranged their dresses, but she and Wendy were still immaculate, and Wendy suggested that they go in immediately.

“Here,” said Wendy, reaching for the ticket that Rapunzel had been given for her cloak. “Let me take those.” She slipped them inside her glove, in the palm, and then adjusted both gloves to ensure that they were even. Then even her placid smile grew a little bit brighter and more enthusiastic. “Come on, now. We should go and join the line for presentations.”

Rapunzel’s heart was in her mouth as they went through to the ballroom and joined the long line of young women waiting to be presented to the Prince. She had never been in a room so large before; it seemed as large as Godmother’s mansion all put together, all white pillars and shiny floor, with great chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Gentle music swayed forth from the band set discreetly to one corner, and around the edges of the room men and women milled, talking to each other and watching the parade of women.

They moved quite quickly; whatever the Prince was doing or saying, it did not take long. Being shorter than many of the other women, Rapunzel was not able to see until they were almost at the front of the line; the Prince was quite a handsome man, with dark hair and a round, fair-featured face, but the overwhelming look of boredom on his face was enough for even Rapunzel to pick up on.

Finally, they stood before him. “The Mademoiselles Moira and Rapunzel Chérie,” announced the gentleman with the long scroll and an incredibly persistent voice. “Daughters of Lord Chérie.”

They curtseyed; Wendy was ineffably elegant, her movements graceful and her curtsey low. Rapunzel attempted to do the same, almost stumbled, and had to place her hand on the floor to steady herself. Embarrassment flooding her, she was ready to flee, but felt a white-gloved hand slip under her arm and draw her slowly back up to her feet once again. She raised her eyes to find the Prince before her, and froze in terror.

“My apologies, your Highness,” said Wendy smoothly, stepping in and assisting Rapunzel fully upright. “My sister has not yet formally come out.”

The Prince smiled, his expressing understanding but a little tight-lipped at Wendy’s interruption. He stepped back, bowed to them, and Wendy spirited Rapunzel away before anything else could be said.

“I’m so sorry,” Rapunzel whispered, but Wendy merely stroked her hair with a hushing sound and motioned for her to stop hunching over as she was.

“It’s no problem, really,” Wendy replied. “These things happen to the best of us. I would be careful, though,” she said. “He seemed to be quite taken by you.”

Rapunzel looking at her in shock, eyes wide and hands trembling slightly as she held Wendy’s arm still. It occurred to her that it had been said how the Prince liked blondes; Rapunzel’s eyes might have been green rather than blue, but she knew there was not much difference. Wendy’s eyes scanned over what remained of the line of young women; it seemed to be growing longer rather than shrinking.

“Come on,” she said, more gently, “let’s go and find the refreshment room, and have a drink. We’ve got a while yet before Cinderella is supposed to arrive.”

Rapunzel nodded, and allowed herself to be led away. Everything was so beautiful that she could hardly bear not to be looking at it, and Wendy led her gently and with occasional explanations to those to whom she spoke that echoed what she had said to the Prince. Rapunzel was grateful for a moment that she looked even younger than her years, as the girls around her seemed so cool and collected, and cradled one glass of champagne to her chest without really so much as sipping at it whilst Wendy led conversation.

Time ticked on, the number of young women who were yet to be introduced dwindled, and every so often Wendy would steal glances at the grand clocks in every room with a faint look of concern in her eyes. Finally, the time for Cinderella’s planned arrival appeared, and with a coy smile Wendy suggested that they return to the ballroom once again.

The line had reached its end: two young women in out-of-fashion dresses, who had visited Godmother’s house some days before accompanied by an older woman. The older woman was a friend, Godmother had said, who had assisted them on occasion before, and her daughters were far more intelligent women than they were currently acting, bumbling and looking fools and bringing up the back of the line. Wendy nudged Rapunzel’s arm and nodded to the mother, standing and watching carefully as the scene unfurled.

The young women were introduced under names which Rapunzel was quite sure would be false; they curtseyed badly; the Prince bowed in return with the look of boredom having come back to his face. As he straightened up, however, his gaze strayed to the back of the hall, and Rapunzel followed it to see a woman framed in the grand doorway.

For a moment, even she could not recognise the figure in the stunning silver dress, her movements graceful and delicate, as though she was a little lost. Then she remembered that this was Cinderella, a woman whom she had once seen testing weights of wire to be used as garrottes, and the sight seemed to be accompanied by a discord in her mind.

“My word,” breathed Wendy, and Rapunzel tore her eyes away again. The Prince had left the position where he had stood for the last few hours, and was striding through the hall to a look of astonishment from the courtiers standing around. Wendy squeezed Rapunzel’s arm. “This is better than we could even have thought.”

Rapunzel craned her neck to watch as the Prince walked right up to Cinderella, as she turned in surprise. He bowed, she curtseyed elegantly in response, and just moment later he took her hand and kissed the fine white silk of her glove.

“It looks as if I’m not going to be needed at all,” said Wendy, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Well, there we are. Shall we join the dancing? Aurora has taught you, after all. If there are difficult dances, just write an imaginary name on the card, and you will not have to do them,” she added, pointing to the card which Rapunzel had been handed at the door and all but forgotten about. “We should not waste the opportunity of a Ball, after all.”

 

 

 

By the small hours of the morning, when the Ball was done and Wendy retrieved Rapunzel to all but drag her to the cabriolet, her feet hurt, the corset she was wearing felt too tired, she was exhausted, and she never wanted it to end. With only a couple of glasses of champagne she was far from inebriated, but insisted on singing beneath her breath and attempting to dance with Wendy even as they waited for the cabriolet to return. Wendy gave a maternal sigh, bundled her on board, and then nodded for the driver to let them leave.

“Oh, this is so wonderful,” Rapunzel gushed, watching the stars in the sky as they made their way back to the house in which they had chosen to stay for the duration of the contract. “The dance, the dance… da da da dee, da da da dum…”

“It’s not all like this,” Wendy said, gently pulling Rapunzel’s cloak further over her shoulders. “But yes, it can be wonderful. That’s another of the reasons why we’re here.”

Rapunzel heard herself talking, but didn’t really listen to even what she was saying as she chattered her way back to the house. When she tried to get out of the carriage, she stumbled again, and kicked her shoes off with a pout before lifting up them – and, mercifully, the hem of her skirt – and making her way back into the house again.

“Godmother?” Wendy called as the door closed behind them.

“In here, love,” Godmother replied, and though there was no indication in the voice they could see that the light in the front parlour was on, with all of the others turned down low. Wendy led Rapunzel in; Godmother was already seated on one of the chairs, a cup of tea in her hand and a pleased smile on her face, with Cinderella sitting opposite her still in her ballgown. Cinderella had removed the velvet choker from her neck and the sparkling band from her hair, and was now letting her hair loose with her gloved fingers. “How did you enjoy it?”

“Oh, it was so fantastic,” said Rapunzel, and before she could help herself rushed forwards and threw her arms around Godmother’s neck. The cup rattled in its saucer, and she gave a squeak of apology as she pulled away, but nothing had been spilt and Godmother gave a tolerant laugh. “I mean, it was just…” she caught herself and put her hands up to her mouth, adding quietly: “I should be quiet now.”

Godmother patted the chair next to her. “Sit down, dear, and calm down a bit before you go to bed. You’ll never sleep like this! Wendy, would you like to join us?”

Wendy shook her head, then gave a yawn which she delicately covered with one hand. “Sorry, Godmother, but I fear my day is over.”

“Sleep well then,” Godmother said with a nod, and Wendy returned the gesture before leaving the room and pulling the door to behind her.

Cinderella had now let her hair wholly loose, and shook it out gently before tying a ribbon around it once again. Her dress glimmered even in the parlour light, the style so cutting-edge that there had not been another woman at the ball wearing it. She looked beautiful, and Rapunzel felt as if she was looking at the sun.

“Sorry, dear,” said Godmother, “please continue.”

Cinderella gave a shrug and laid her hands back into her lap. “It all went perfectly to plan. The Tremaine sisters provided the perfect close to the queue, and the men on the gates made sure that nobody came into the palace after I did.”

“And the Prince?”

Her expression did not change. “Entranced. I let him believe that I did not know who he was, and we danced for a long while, as well as talking and walking in the gardens – without a chaperone, although he did not attempt to do anything untoward. Of course, I gave him the story which you had prepared for me: that I was a displaced daughter passed over after my stepmother took control of the estate, and that I was forced to work as a servant. He made me take off my gloves so that he could see my rough hands, and apologised to me for it.”

Godmother’s smile became, if anything, even more contented, and she settled further back in her chair as she set down her tea on the side table. “Oh, my dear, you are quite exquisite in every way. And of course, you left your shoe behind?”

Cinderella lifted the hem of her dress slightly to reveal one bare foot, and Godmother clapped her hands together in joy.

“Wonderful! Now, sadly our contact at the Palace could not be present tonight, but I talked to him at great length about what is to be done next. The Prince should attempt desperately to find you, but of course he will not if he is following your name. A search will be suggested based upon the shoe, and that alone. I have given to our contact a replica shoe which will be impossible for anybody to fit on their feet, and for the look of things he will visit several important houses and have the daughters attempt to put it on.

“I have spoken again to Lady Tremaine, and she has agreed to install you in her house in order for your ‘discovery’ to be made. You will be taken immediately to the Palace from her house, dressed as a maid.”

“Will you be able to get weapons to me?” said Cinderella. “I presume that I will not be able to take any if I am still garbed as a maid, as they will want me to change when I reach the Palace.”

“Of course,” came the reply. “Our contact will arrange for you to have whatever weapon you desire bought to you, if you wish for a weapon. Unfortunately he will not be able to help you if you wish to arrange an accident, as it is important that he is not connected to matters.”

“Naturally.”

Rapunzel watched, captivated, as Cinderella peeled off her gloves and laid them with the other items in her lap. She flexed her fingers, slender and with the faintest of silver marks across the back of the left, almost invisible in the low light. “The King wants the Prince married before too long at all, if I recall correctly. If we are lucky, he will arrange for the marriage to take place almost immediately. It will help; I need to remain without recognition.”

“Of course, my dear,” said Godmother. “Everything is under control.”

 

 

 

Once the excitement of the evening had worn off, Rapunzel felt her eyelids growing heavy almost in an instant, and when she was escorted to bed by Godmother the room was already swimming before her eyes. Wendy was already asleep; very few of them had come into the city, most staying at the mansion “to keep it ticking over”, as Godmother had said. Rapunzel had wondered what had happened if someone called upon them again, though she supposed that Snow White would be trusted enough to look after whatever came up.

As it was, she found herself sharing a room with Wendy, who didn't wear as much pink or as much makeup as Charlotte and was quite a bit quieter as well. Rapunzel liked both sensations. She almost reluctantly removed the dress and jewellery she had been given before crawling into bed, but kept the necklace glittering on her bedside table, still within her sight, and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

The sun creeping through the shutters awoke her; it was becoming normal to rise with the sun now, to stretch and rub her eyes and then tumble out of bed with a smile on her face at the thought of breakfasting with the others in the great dining room. That morning was a little less exuberant than usual: Rapunzel and Wendy did most of the speaking, interspersed with quiet comments from Aurora, who had accompanied them. Cinderella ate in delicate silence, dressed simply once again and almost like a different person than she had seemed the night before, and left as soon as she had finished; Godmother did not say much, nor eat more than a few bites of the food in front of her. Once they had finished eating, she suggested that Rapunzel clear the table for them, as Wendy had made breakfast, and advised them that they had the rest of the day to their own devices.

It seemed almost disappointing, in some ways, after the grandeur of the previous evening. But Rapunzel supposed that, as the others had said, things could not be so impressive all of the time; she hummed waltzes whilst she washed the dishes and tapped her foot through a quadrille that made its way through her mind. Her tasks done, she considered going outside into the pretty little town garden, but Godmother had said that it would probably be better if they were inside and she thought instead of the wide windowsills in the bedroom, with their pleasant views and fresh air whilst she read.

As she made her way up the stairs, however, she saw Godmother’s door ajar, and tilted her head curiously at what sounded like a man’s voice coming from inside. Rapunzel tip-toed across to the doorway and glanced through, catching sight of a tall, rather thin gentleman inside, dark-haired, holding a monocle in his hands which he polished with a look of agitation. In a glance she took it all in and drew back out of sight again; that too had changed since she had been one of Godmother’s wards.

“Calm down, my dear,” said Godmother smoothly, her tone as soothing as always, “take a seat. Things will be fine, do not worry.”

“If it is discovered that I am not truly searching for the lady who can fit the slipper…”

“Send your men out with the fake to a few of the grand homes. You do not really need to go to every home in the Kingdom. Go to the Tremaine’s house tomorrow, and the story will be finished.”

The chair creaked as he must have settled into it. Rapunzel bit her lip, but could not pull away from the door. “I want to move things up. Find her this evening.”

“The agreement was that we would give the Prince longer to languish.”

“You saw how fast he fell for her,” said the man, further irritation seeping into his voice. “The boy is like a weather-vane! I do not want to risk waiting too long and having him lose his drive.”

A pause. Godmother rarely paused. Rapunzel held her breath until the reply came. “Very well. We will remove to the Tremaine’s house immediately. Wait at least three hours before coming after us, otherwise questions will be asked. Even they have neighbours, after all, no matter how far away they may be.”

A hand closed around Rapunzel’s upper arm, and she went to cry out when a hand was placed across her mouth. She allowed herself to be pulled away from the door and was turned to find herself face-to-face with Cinderella. The woman’s expression was still unreadable. “We do not listen at doorways in this house,” she said quietly, voice restrained. “If there are things we need to know, we are told them, and that is all.”

“I’m so sorry,” whispered Rapunzel desperately, as the hand was removed from her mouth. “I didn’t mean to, I just-“

“You are new here,” said Cinderella. Her hand released Rapunzel’s arm; the grip had been so firm that it was almost painful. “It is understandable. But do not do so again.”

She shied away as Cinderella swept past her, a whirl of pearl grey and the faintest of scents, and entered the study in which Godmother and the strange man sat. The murmur of further conversation followed, but Rapunzel fled to her room once again and huddled on her bed with her arms wrapped around the pillow until she could breathe calmly once again. Then, and only then, did she retrieve a book and try to immerse herself in its world once again.

A short time passed – she was not sure how long, but it was only a little more than a chapter, until there was a knock at the door. Rapunzel gave a squeak of shock, and Godmother stepped through with a look of faint concern on her face. She was wearing all black today, dressed like a widow with a black crepe veil trailing back over her shoulders. “Is everything all right, dear?”

“Yes, Godmother,” said Rapunzel, but she heard that it came out of her mouth a little too quickly. She put down her book, turned and swung her feet off the edge of the bed, letting her toes brush against the carpet. Her hands curled around the edge of the bed as she looked down at the floor. “I mean, it’s just… everything’s been a little much.”

Godmother crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside her, close enough for warmth to pass between them. An arm snaked round Rapunzel’s shoulders and patted her arm gently, drawing her close. “You’ve done so well these past few weeks,” she said softly. “I know that it can be difficult sometimes, but you really have done so _well_. Now,” she added, “I was going to ask if you wanted to come to the Tremaine household today and see the next step, but I can see that you’re tired. So if you want to stay in bed today, just rest, maybe read a little more, even go out into the garden… that’s perfectly fine. Would you rather stay here today?”

It was a tempting offer. Rapunzel rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and sniffed, though she was fairly sure that she wasn’t going to start crying again. The wave of memory, of what it had felt like to tighten the noose of her hair around Gothel’s neck, the terror and anger all wrapped up together in desolation, receded and drew back again like waves on the shore. She’d read about the sea. Godmother’s hand rubbed her shoulder gently, a lulling motion, and she thought about crawling back beneath the covers and sleeping for a while, until things seemed more stable once again.

“No,” she said. It almost caught her by surprise as well. “I want to go with you.”

It bought her a benevolent smile that made her feel a little bit warmer again. “Good girl. Well, pick up some shoes and your coat, and we’ll get going. We’ll find you a nice quiet corner to watch everything going on, but you won’t have to be seen.”

 

 

 

She sat next to Godmother in the carriage, holding her hand tightly and feeling her breath tight in her chest as they made their way across the town. They kept to quieter roads, not so small that their passing would be unusual but not the largest routes that would be full of people, and made their way to a large house quiet close to the edge, entering through a rear gate.

The woman from the Ball was there; Godmother greeted her as Lady Tremaine and introduced Rapunzel. Lady Tremaine gave her a terse look and a nod, and said that she hoped she would not get in the way. It was on the tip of Rapunzel’s tongue to start babbling assurances that she would not, when she was patted on the shoulder again and led through to the front of the house.

There were maids standing in the back corridor, shifting from foot to foot and talking in muted voices between themselves. When Lady Tremaine entered, she frowned and rapped the foot of her walking-stick against the floor. “Silence!” she said. “You are not here! You will not be heard when the footmen enter!”

The girls fell silent, and they swept through, into the grand hallway of the room with its shiny floors. Cinderella took off her cloak to reveal her simple clothes from training, patched in the corner of the apron and shiny at the elbows of the sleeve. Her hair was already tied loosely up, and she wore plain shoes upon her otherwise bare feet.

“I will wait upstairs until the last moment,” she assured Godmother, and disappeared upwards with fleeting, light steps.

“Girls,” called Lady Tremaine, and two women hurried out of one of the sitting rooms. Rapunzel recognised the women from the ball, wearing quite similar dresses as they had been before, though with different hairpieces. They fussed and adjusting the ugly-coloured gowns, as if to make them look as poorly-done as possible. Perhaps that really was their intention. Rapunzel wondered when exactly she had begun to think things over so much, and allowed herself to be ushered up two flights of stairs and into a quiet, dark corner where she and Godmother could lean on the balustrade and watch the scene as it played out below.

“You see,” said Godmother quietly, “although I pick those girls who are able to kill, it is not the _only_ thing which you need to be able to do. It would not be fair on you, never mind good, if that were how you lived your lives. Watch.”

Rapunzel propped her chin on her hand and watched the scene below. The two sisters in their terrible dresses fluttered over to the window, looking out and nudging against each other impatiently. “He’s coming! The Grand Duke!” Rapunzel heard one of them say. Lady Tremaine turned back to them and wagged a finger warningly.

“Don’t fail me.”

The words made Rapunzel shiver, and she was grateful for the gentle squeeze that Godmother gave her arm. She had heard those words before, many times in many ways, but this was her new life now and such words did not exist here.

The door opened to a footman with a trumpet and an overinflated sense of self-importance. “Announcing,” the man said, “his Imperial Grace the Grand Duke.”

A taller, older man came through the door, this one with his own dark hair rather than a wig, and wearing a monocle. A slight frown came to Rapunzel’s face, a flickering of familiarity, then she let it pass and allowed herself to forget that she knew what was about to unfold.

“You honour our humble home,” said Lady Tremaine with the slightest hint of a bow, her voice languid and grating.

“Yes…” muttered the Grand Duke, bustling in. “Quite so.”

“May I present my daughters? Drizella; Anastasia.”

She touched the Grand Duke’s arm gently to draw his attention towards the women, who gave obsequious curtseys; Anastasia offered a “Your Grace” with something that looked a little like a sneer. As the footman from the doorway, now carrying a pillow on which lay a glittering glass slipper, and two soldiers followed, the Grand Duke gave a faint shudder.

“Charmed, I’m sure.”

The footman proffered up a proclamation, which the Grand Duke duly read out; it filled in some of the gaps in what Cinderella had alluded to, at least in a story form. The Prince had fallen desperately in love with a woman at the ball; he did not know her name, and the only clue he had to her identity was a fallen glass slipper; every woman in the land was to try it on to see if it fitted. Despite the minor scuffle which the two girls indulged in, startling the footman, the Grand Duke continued undeterred. He looked nervous, though, Rapunzel could not help but notice; a fidget in his step and the way that he fiddled with his monocle speaking loudly to her now.

They bought forward the slipper, glittering in the light of the chandelier, and first Anastasia and then Drizella tried it on. It must have been tiny, Rapunzel thought; it was nowhere near fitting either of them, dangling off their toes. The footman, shoved around by both of the daughters, began to turn red in the face as everything continued.

It passed. The Grand Duke turned as if to go, the door open before him. Rapunzel bit her lip, hands tightening on the bannister, for all that she should have _known_ what was about to pass.

“Your Grace! Your Grace!”

Cinderella appeared from one of the doors, pattering down the stairs in her servant’s garments. The footman and soldiers looked on in bafflement as the Duke turned, raised his monocle to his eye, and the Tremaines’ protested the lack of necessity of having Cinderella try on the shoe as well.

“Madam,” said the Grand Duke, “my orders said _every_ maiden.”

Rapunzel breathed again, and watched as Cinderella _glided_ , _floated_ her way into the chair that was drawn up before her. There was a beatific smile on her face, every man in the room watching her adoringly even as the women looked horrified, and Cinderella slipped off one shoe to proffer her bare foot to the Grand Duke.

She heard the crash before she saw where it came from; eyes widening, Rapunzel jumped, and felt Godmother’s arm tighten on her arm to hold her in place. “It’s all right,” Godmother murmured; but there were shards of glass on the floor, glittering like shattered stars as the Grand Duke fell to his knees in horror that was not, simply could not, be acted, and Rapunzel looked around with wide eyes and questions springing to her lips-

“But you see… I have the other slipper.”

Cinderella’s voice was low and gentle, her movements sleek as she produced a fresh slipper from beneath her apron and offered it to the Grand Duke. He gave her in return a look of wonder, took the slipper with trembling hands and slipped it onto her foot. It fit perfectly, of course, and she rose to her feet with her hand held firmly in his.

The Grand Duke called to his men to ready the carriage, jubilance pouring off him; he asked Cinderella whether she had anything which she needed to take from the house, and she declined, removing her apron and casting it to the floor as she was whisked away. Then the door closed behind them, the voices outside faded away, and the room was left in peace once again.

Godmother stepped away and started down the stairs, clapping as she did so: a little slow, but not so much as to sound mocking. “Perfect, my dears,” she said. “Perfect.” Reaching the ground floor, she walked over the shattered glass without a second thought and took hold of Anastasia’s hand, kissing the air before each cheek and then turning to Drizella to do the same. “Ah, how well you could do as my Princesses…”

“My daughters work with me,” said Lady Tremaine sharply, and Godmother nodded demurely to her.

“Of course, I understand. Well, there is nothing more that we can do now, save for wait for Cinderella to make her next move. Come on, Rapunzel. We should get going.”

Remembering her feet, Rapunzel ran down the stairs herself, and back into Godmother’s arms. Anastasia waved goodbye as they left, but Drizella and Lady Tremaine stared stonily after them. In the distance, bells were starting to ring already, bright in the summer sky. Once they were back inside the carriage, Godmother gave quite the warmest smile that Rapunzel had ever seen her give.

“I do love it when things go to plan.”

 

 

 

 

 

Officially, they were not supposed to go to the wedding, but Rapunzel’s curiosity got the better of her. She persuaded Wendy to come as well, and together they climbed over the wall of the garden and ran through the streets to join the crowds thronging outside the church. Music was playing, and there were bright colours and laughter everywhere, and Rapunzel hardly knew which way to turn as she bounced on the balls of her feet in glee and kept a tight hold on Wendy’s hand.

From where they stood, they could hardly even see the doors of the church, but wove between people and peered through gaps to see the Prince in striking – but affected, Rapunzel’s mind now told her – military uniform, and his new wife in a whirl of white satin and lace, the very picture of beauty and bliss as she threw her bouquet out into the crowd and blew kisses out after it, earning screams of delight and more snatches of song from the crowd.

They finally made it into the carriage – Rapunzel squinted, though they were a little closer now – as she saw hands thrusting small bunches of flowers towards the happy couple, saw the bride pluck a couple apparently at random before disappearing from view, and the carriage set off down the road.

It seemed a little bit of a let-down after everything that had happened. She leant close to Wendy – intending to whisper, ending up shouting – and said so, but Wendy shrugged and said that Cinderella was not exactly going to make a scene in front of so huge a crowd, was she?

Rapunzel supposed that was fair.

They climbed over the wall back in; the housekeeper caught sight of them in the garden and gave them a distinctly knowing look, but she was in the habit of that anyway and neither of them took too much notice.

Then, for a while, nothing happened.

 

 

 

 

That was not to say that Rapunzel’s time with Godmother and the other ‘princesses’ was boring. Far from it; she learnt many things in the following week or so. She learnt that she was very good at anatomical drawings, that given a pair of bolas she could hit even a running target from quite a distance (and that even with her ankles bound, Mulan could perform a perfect diving roll), and that she was one of the people who could not smell the bitter-almond taste of cyanide and would therefore, Tiana said, have to be extra-careful when she was eating anything not prepared at the house.

Eventually, in the wide rolling quiet of the grounds, she was given a rifle. She was allowed to examine it at great length, that much would be said, moving the pieces and pressing gently on the trigger whilst it was not loaded and could not go off. After some time to familiarise herself with it, Belle offered her a chance to fire. Since it was something that seemed, at least for now, to be optional, Rapunzel politely declined and handed it back. Belle shrugged as if it were Rapunzel’s loss, and told her that the lesson was over.

She found Snow White in the kitchen, with a basket over her arm and a cape mostly arranged around her shoulders. Snow had been a little more free with her story than the other girls: she did not take so many contracts now, and instead helped Godmother to run matters; her father had remarried after the death of her mother, and after the death of her _father_ as well the Stepmother had moved far away, Snow White in tow, before starting thorough and increasingly intense abuse of the girl. When she had finally snapped and attempted to kill Snow White – “Saying,” Snow White had added, surprisingly calmly in Rapunzel’s eyes, “that she wanted to take my skin and wear it because it would make her beautiful again” – Snow White had hidden from the original outburst of fury, then as the madness began to wear off took the opportunity to slip her step-mother poison. Finally, when the woman was unconscious, Snow White had tightened the strings on her corset until they stopped her breath.

Charlotte had listened with dreamy admiration, though she later told Rapunzel that she had heard the story several times before. Rapunzel remained less convinced, but did not comment as such. It was not until she discovered that Snow White had only been fourteen at the time that she came to appreciate that it was, as Godmother said, something which allowed them to _survive_.

“Rapunzel,” said Snow White, with a warm smile. She was arranging a chequered red cloth inside her basket. “I was just going into town for some things. Would you like to accompany me?”

No matter how mundane, she could not miss a chance to go out into the world. Rapunzel beamed as she replied: “Of course!”

“Grab your cloak, then,” said Snow. “You don’t want to burn, now.”

The sun was bright and birds sang as they made their way down the road towards town. Rapunzel could name them as they flitted past: here a robin, there a goldfinch, there a swift lilting on the breeze. Snow White, however, could sing or whistle their songs well enough to earn replies from them, and that seemed a far more impressive talent.

Rapunzel combed her hair with her fingers as they walked. Finally she had plucked up the courage to ask Godmother about it, and for the first time in her life her hair had been cut. Although it still fell almost to her waist, she was amazed by the weight that it took from the back of her head, and how much easier it was to wear it loose without it getting tangled in anything which she attempted to walk past.

“Is something worrying you?” asked Snow White after a while. She looked at Rapunzel in a way that could be called kindly; perhaps by anyone else it would have been described as maternal, but Rapunzel was none too fond of that term anymore.

She gave a tight shrug. Her moments of discomfort were becoming rarer now, but they still washed over her from time to time. “I was just thinking about the contracts that have come in.”

It seemed like a lot of old scores were being settled as the Season began. Jane had been sent to deal with an academic in one of the big cities who was getting a little too close to some old truths; Pocahontas to London to intrigue and then dispatch a detective who knew a little too much. Just that morning, Godmother had announced that the following day there would be a meeting for yet another contract, this one on a man some distance to the South who was kidnapping young boys and… well, Godmother had refused to finish the explanation in front of them generally. They had been told simply that it might be a harrowing case, and to be prepared for such if they volunteered to take it.

“And?” said Snow White, after a moment.

The prompting had been expected, almost desired, but Rapunzel still wrinkled her nose for a moment. “I’m going to have to take one eventually, I know that. I just… I don’t know how soon I’ll be expected to.”

“No sooner than you’re ready,” came the reassuring reply, together with a pat on the shoulder. “Some of the others were here for many months before they took their first contract. Wendy for over a year! Godmother would rather we take it slow and do things when we’re ready, than rush ahead and hurt ourselves in the process.”

“Thank you,” said Rapunzel quietly, and they lapsed into silence for a while before Snow White started talking about what they were going to get from the market in town, and Rapunzel felt herself perking up a little once again. They were deep into discussing whether or not they should take seeds and bulbs from town or from the forests in order to replenish the gardens that winter by the time they arrived at the fishmonger’s in town, fish being one of the few things that they could not produce on the grounds.

There were a couple of women already inside, one of them haggling with the fishmonger, the other looking thoughtfully over the wares, as Snow White stepped through the door with a tinkle of the bell, Rapunzel following in her wake. The one not engaged in economic arguments looked round, and smiled widely. “Snow! My dear!”

Snow White exchanged kisses on the cheek with the woman, then settled back with a smile of her own. “Marie, it is so good to see you. And how is Tristan?”

“Improving,” said Marie with an enthusiastic nod, bronze curls bobbing as she spoke. “He did so appreciate that pie you sent for him.”

“Oh, I am just glad to hear that he is doing better. Is there other news?”

It was like watching an actor change the mask that they wore (or so, at least, Rapunzel was sure that she had heard it to be); Marie’s mouth went from a smile to an ‘o’ of surprise, her eyebrows rising and pushing folds into her forehead, the muscles of her cheeks going slack. Rapunzel thought of the tendons and muscles moving underneath, how they would shift and tense, and almost missed the way that Marie’s voice dropped to a whisper to speak.

“You have not heard?”

“Heard what?” said Snow White, all curious innocence which she wore so well despite her years.

“The Prince of Gallia… you heard of his marriage, surely?” It had been all that the town had been talking about by the time that they had discreetly returned to the house once again. Snow White nodded eagerly, as if she was certain that some scandal was to have arisen from the Prince marrying a servant-girl. “Well, he and his bride were going to one of the country palaces in order to spend their honeymoon there and…” Marie took a deep breath, then made a dramatic gesture with her hands. “Vanished! They never arrived!”

Rapunzel gasped loudly, and the two older women looked round as if they had forgotten that she was there. “How-how horrible!” she stammered. “Do they know what happened?”

A hand came to rest on her shoulder, though whether the gesture was supposed to be one of comfort or restraint from Snow White, Rapunzel could not honestly say.

Marie pursed her lips and blew air out sharply between them. “Well, the soldier that I spoke to said that there wasn’t anything known for sure yet. But I heard that the carriage had fallen from one of the roads.”

“Oh, how terrible,” said Snow White softly.

Marie gave an earnest nod. “A curse, that’s what I’ve heard it was. On that girl that he married.”

“The girl…”

“Eleanor Tremaine. Princess, now, perhaps,” Marie added with something of a sniff. Idly, Rapunzel thought that if she had seen Cinderella in her gown at the ball, she would have known that Cinderella was more than a princess, more like a goddess, wearing moonbeams like a dress. “Every woman in the Kingdom, and he chose a serving girl! Can you imagine it? And now this… if what they say about the King of Gallia is true, he’ll be mad for good after this. I do hope he doesn’t start a war over the girl.”

“Well, curse or accident, it wouldn’t be with us, surely,” Snow White said, and Marie gave her a pointed look that managed to communicate very little at all. Snow White pressed one hand to her chest with a look of shock, and turned to Rapunzel with the same expression still on her face. “We must tell my aunt. I can’t believe that the news hadn’t reached us already!”

Without waiting for a response, or giving time for the look of disbelief that Rapunzel still wore to fade, she swept from the room with the younger girl in tow, and they almost ran back up the road towards the place that they had come to call home.

 

 

 

 

They returned to sounds of squealing delight and laughter, clapping and cheers; the sound seemed to be concentrated around the main staircases, and still wearing their cloaks and outdoor boots Snow White and Rapunzel hurried towards the gathering. Snow White had begun to smile widely almost as soon as they were out of sight of everyone else, but Rapunzel still did not know how to react as she entered the hallway.

They were all gathered there; everyone, one of the first times she had seen everyone together in one place. Cinderella stood at the foot of the stairs, dressed now in the clothing of a peasant, rough and loose, with her hair tangled and streaked with mud and her feet bare. The other girls were all but tumbling down the stairs to greet her, with handshakes or brief embraces, and she graced them all with calm smiles in return as they gushed their admiration and the fact that none of them, not one, had predicted how she would have achieved this assassination.

As Ariel released Cinderella’s hand from its enthusiastic shaking, Snow White swept forwards and wrapped the younger woman into an overwhelming embrace. Rapunzel, in her wake, was close enough to hear the affectionate, _”Sister,”_ that accompanied the gesture. When Snow White stepped back, Cinderella’s smile was just a little warmer, and then Rapunzel found herself standing before the woman in turn.

Their gazes met, glacial blue on trembling green, and then Cinderella spread her arms wide. Rapunzel stepped forwards with a smile and hugged her in return, squeezing as tightly as she dared and surprised to feel the embrace tighten in return. As she drew away again, she looked up and realised to her surprise that there were tears of joy and awe in her eyes, as if the feelings in the air had found their outlet in her.

“You are… so wonderful,” she said breathlessly.

“And soon you will be one of us,” said Cinderella quietly. The words made Rapunzel’s heart pound in her chest, and she reluctantly stepped back to allow another of the women to congratulate Cinderella in turn.

To be like Cinderella, she thought, anything would be but a small price to pay.

 

 

 

 

Three weeks later, Godmother announced that the King and Queen of Corona had discreetly approached her to deal with a thief who had been making himself quite the nuisance within the Kingdom. He had recently stolen from the Crown Jewels, Godmother explained, and though his associates had been caught, he had not. They needed someone to gain his trust so that what he had stolen could be recovered, before he was handed over to authorities. The stolen item was so dear to the King and Queen that they were even willing to be complicit in the action take, so long as it was returned.

“Therefore,” Godmother said, “I need both someone willing to take this contract, and for them to have an idea of where they can lure this thief so that he can be dealt with.”

For the first time in all the occasions that she had been in the grand hall, Rapunzel raised not only her head but her voice. “I think,” she said, the others turning to look at her in some surprise, “that I know just the place.”

Godmother beamed with pride at the words and, from the far end of the table, even Cinderella gave a smile.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Nails or Two to Tangle (The Iron and Ashes Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/473911) by [Interrobam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobam/pseuds/Interrobam)




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